


D5: Beauty

by PuzzledHats



Series: AxG Week 2013 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzledHats/pseuds/PuzzledHats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya had watched two hours worth of YouTube tutorials, practicing over and over again until she could do the perfect eyeliner, the perfect eyeshadow. She had gone to the make-up counter three different times, ensuring her concealer, blush and foundation were a perfect match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D5: Beauty

Arya had watched two hours worth of YouTube tutorials, practicing over and over again until she could do the perfect eyeliner, the perfect eyeshadow. She had gone to the make-up counter three different times, ensuring her concealer, blush and foundation were a perfect match. Much to her annoyance, she found Sansa was the only option when it came to figuring out her clothes. Sansa had pushed for a mini skirt, until they finally agreed on shorts.  Her mother had only been too glad to arrange a hair appointment, cooing over Arya, telling her how great her hair would looked curled, not in that silly braid.  
  
All that preparation, so she had no doubt in her mind as she stood outside the diner that she had done everything she could possibly do to look her best. She took one quick, deep breath and opened the door.  
  
Hot Pie was the first to notice her, his jaw went slack, his eyes looking her up and down. Lommy, seeing his expression, turned to see what had caused it.  
  
“Arya?” Lommy asked in disbelief.   
  
“What?” Arya asked back, pushing him further in to the booth so she could slide in, willing herself not to adjust her hair or the cleavage revealing shirt.  
  
Hot Pie leaned in, concern evident on his face.  
  
“You look like a girl,” he whispered, as if it was the most vile thing he had ever uttered.  
  
“Well, I should hope so,” Arya spat back. “Seeing as how I am a girl.”  
  
“Who is a girl?” Gendry asked as he approached the table, not even bothering to give Arya a second glance. She felt her heart fall a little.  
  
“Apparently Arya,” Hot Pie said, his voice serious, his eyes glued to her cleavage. Gendry looked up from his order pad at the tone in Hot Pie’s voice, seeing the direction of his gaze.  
  
“Hey,” he said, leaning over to smack Hot Pie on the back of the head. “That is our friend Arya, you’re eyeing.”  
  
Hot Pie immediately apologized, averting his gaze. Arya had never felt worse. She stared at the table, knowing a blush was spreading on her cheeks.   
  
“Do you want anything before we go?” Gendry asked her, but she couldn’t raise her eyes, so she just shook her head. “Alright, let me finish up then we can go.”  
  
He walked away, leaving Arya to question her entire existence. All that work, all that time and he hadn’t even noticed the change. She had some how deluded herself into believing that if she put in the time and effort, like Jeyne did, that maybe, just maybe he would look at her the way he looked at Jeyne.  She sighed, knowing he would never see her as anything other than little Arya, the tomboy.  
  
She met him outside in the parking lot five minutes later, wordlessly taking the offered helmet.  
  
“You sure you don’t want to ride with us?” Lommy asked, eyeing Gendry’s motorcycle.   
  
She just shook her head, pulling on the helmet.  
  
“You alright?” Gendry asked her as he mounted the bike.  
  
“Perfect,” she lied, climbing on behind him. She grasped him tightly, letting her head rest between his shoulder blades, not really caring if the embrace was beyond that of just a friend. She always relished riding on his bike with him. Being able to hold him, feel the play of his muscles through his shirt.  
  
The ride might have only been fifteen minutes, but Arya thought it would probably be the best fifteen minutes of the evening.  
  
Acorn Hall, an old abandoned barn that sat beside a lake on the edge of town, was a well known hangout. Tonight was no exception, the party already in full swing. A keg had been set up near the bonfire, music blasted from one of the cars.  
  
She was having fun or at least that’s what she told herself as she slowly sipped on the beer Asha had handed her. Asha only laughed when Gendry pointed out she was underage.  
  
“She’s eighteen,” Asha said. “Stop treating her like a delicate flower.”  
  
Arya smiled triumphantly at him.  
  
“Arya is anything but a delicate flower,” he said before stalking off. Missing the way the smile slipped from Arya’s face.  
  
She lost track of him, occasionally catching glimpses of him through the crowd. Once she saw him chatting with Jeyne. Gendry said something that made Jeyne throw her head back in laughter, one of her hands reaching out stroking his chest. Arya downed her beer, deciding she’d had enough of the party. She walked out onto the dock that extended out on the lake, sitting at the edge lost in her own thought. That was where Gendry found her, plopping down to sit beside her.  
  
“Partied out?” He asked.  
  
“I can find another ride home if you need me to,” Arya said, not looking at him hoping her nonchalant attitude was believable.   
  
“Why would you need to?” He sounded confused.  
  
“I saw you talking to Jeyne, figured you might want to take her back to your place tonight.”  
  
“No,” he laughed. “I’m not taking Jeyne anywhere.”  
  
They sat there for a moment in silence.   
  
“I should get you home before your mother kills me,” Gendry said, standing up, offering her a hand. She gladly took it, cataloging each scar and callous she felt.  
  
“I’m eighteen, an adult,” Arya said. “It doesn’t matter what my mother thinks.”  
  
He looked at her a moment, appraising her before smiling. The next thing she knew she was in the water.  
  
She cursed loudly as she resurfaced to find Gendry had jumped in behind her. He swam several feet away, laughing. She splashed him.  
  
“What was that for?” She asked angrily, wondering if her mascara was running, cursing the hours that had gone into her flawless look, now ruined.  
  
“You looked like you could use a swim,” he laughed.  
  
Arya splashed him again, before swimming over and pushing on his shoulders until his head was submerged. He came back up, still laughing. The game continued, until both were exhausted and out of breath, wearily climbing out of the lake.  
  
She found a discarded blanket by the fire, using it to dry herself off, careful to wipe all traces of makeup from her face. There was no point in trying to salvage it; it hadn’t made a difference anyway. She told Gendry he was lucky it was the hottest day of the year as he handed her a helmet, because otherwise their ride back would have been miserable.  
  
When they arrived at the Stark house, Gendry killed the motor. She stood there as he re-secured the spare helmet. He just stared at her when he was done.  
  
“Thanks for the lift,” she said finally, uncomfortable with the silence.  
  
“You know, you don’t need it,” he said.  
  
“Don’t need what?” She asked, confused.  
  
“The make-up, the curled hair, tighter clothes,” he said, his eyes scanning her body.  
  
“I can wear make-up if I want to. It’s my body after all,” Arya said, anger flaring up quickly, wondering if he would always see her as a child.  
  
He threw up his hands in defense, the universal sign of surrender.   
  
“Of course you can,” Gendry said, moving a step closer to her. His hand reached out, slowly pushing a strand of hair from her face. “I just want you to know: You looked beautiful tonight, just like you do every night. With or without the add-ons.”  
  
“Oh,” she said lamely, having lost her ability to think as soon as he touched her.  
  
He leaned in a little, the corner of his mouth raised in a slight smile. “Just because it takes idiots like Lommy and Hot Pie a while to catch on, doesn’t mean the rest of the male population is that dumb.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Arya said before she could stop herself. “You’re pretty stupid.”  
  
He laughed, suddenly there was no space between them. She had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.   
  
“You’re right, I am pretty stupid,” he said.   
  
“I’m not a little girl any more,” she said. “I’m an adult.”  
  
“So you keep telling me.”  
  
“And I’ll continue to tell you until you get it through your thick skull.”  
  
“Okay, so you’re an adult. What do you want to do now, Arya?”  
  
She didn’t think, just pulled him down until their lips met. Her arms around his neck, his arm around her waist, a hand on her neck. She wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss, nor did she care. Giving him everything she had; taking all he would give her. When she was sure she had made an impression, she pulled away abruptly.   
  
His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes glazed and out of focus. She turned, walking toward her house; halfway to the door she turned back to see him in the same spot she had left him.  
  
“What do I want to do now that I’m an adult?” She repeated the question. “Let’s start with you taking me on a date.”  
  
Then she turned, going in to her house with out a second glance.   
  
Not the least bit confused when she got a text message from him three minutes later.  
  
 _ **\--Friday work for you?**_


End file.
